


Expectations

by cynatnite



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Grant Ward angst, Phil Coulson Feels, Post-Episode: s01e22 Beginning of the End, Skyeward and Mayward relationships are background relationships, fuck you john garrett, fuck you maynard, grant ward character study, phil coulson character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynatnite/pseuds/cynatnite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant Ward escapes his prison and Phil Coulson is not far behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not trying to redeem Grant Ward, just trying to understand him.

“Director Phil Coulson.”

Saying it aloud certainly didn’t make it any more real. When Phil envisioned anyone with the title it was always Nick Fury in his formidable corner office at the Triskelion. It was definitely not in a small office on a beaten up aircraft known as the Bus or in a hidden away bunker called the Playground. Phil had long ago quit questioning the sanity of whoever was doing the naming.

So, here he sat at his desk pondering how to build – _correction_ – rebuild SHIELD. It had literally been ripped apart from the ground up and there were just a few stalwart loyalists who continued to follow him despite the public’s overwhelming opposition to anything secretive these days. _Thank you, Eric Snowden_.

If there was to be any rebuilding of SHIELD he would have to begin anew and that meant making sure the mistakes of the past weren’t repeated. That included Hydra agents weren’t recruited a second time and the malignancies weren’t allowed to take root and grow within it.

Phil needed to know who to trust and who not to. There was no clear way to insure he wasn’t laying fertile soil for Hydra to grow once again. He scrolled through a few files and dismissed the Hydra double agents who had insinuated themselves deep within SHIELD. Phil had soon discovered very few Hydra spies had a working knowledge of their cohorts.

He stopped at a particular file and leaned back in his chair. Seeing the face of one Agent – _correction again_ – former Agent Grant Ward still cut into him. Phil would never let it show just how deeply the betrayal hurt. It had been weeks since his status as a Hydra spy had come to light, but the damage still haunted the faces of his team.

May was still all business, but he had long ago learned when she was covering up. Layer after layer was applied over her wounds as if one was painting over damaged wallpaper. She’d never let anyone know just how deep the pain went or that it even existed. May moved on with her life never letting anyone see just how deeply Ward had gotten to her during their most intimate moments.

Phil was worried about Jemma. Grant Ward had nearly killed her and Fitz. He had felt foolish trying to rationalize the act afterwards and realized soon that it minimized the suffering her and Fitz had endured. He saw her fury, the rage in her eyes. Jemma now carried with her intense hatred and it hurt seeing it in someone he had never thought capable of the emotion. It tore into him enough that he wanted to strike out at Ward for tearing away a piece of Jemma’s innocence in addition to Fitz being so damaged that his prognosis remained unclear even now.

Then there was Skye. He’d had a soft spot for her from the outset. She reminded him that normal people existed outside a secret clandestine organization. Phil had spent so much of his life inside of SHIELD that he had forgotten what it was like to not be secretive, mistrustful, and always preparing for the worst of any given situation as if hope was a thing to never expect.

Instead of the bright smiling girl who never let the bad in the world change her inherent belief that something good can come out of anything that he had grown accustomed to seeing, he now saw a young woman who was guarded and kept her distance. She had found a family here and the one she had believed in the most had abused her trust and love. It wasn’t gone. It was as if Skye had taken down a box from the attic, wrapped up her most treasured possessions and put them away so that no one would find them.

That was another reason to despise Grant Ward.

It didn’t matter what Phil himself saw in Grant Ward. He’d read Ward’s history from cover to cover. He had the kind of familial damage that had always drawn Phil to those like him. It was young recruits who came from troubled backgrounds that needed an extra push, a role model, and a belief in them.

Looking back, it had worked so well in the past. Natasha had been damaged nearly beyond repair when she was brought to him. With Barton’s help ( _God, please be alive, Clint_ ), they became family. At least for Phil that was the case. His will still had both agents as his beneficiaries. Barton himself was the product of a bad childhood and an even worse lifestyle that had nearly killed him. Both needed someone who more than cared about them, but believed in them.

Phil had thought that was what Grant Ward needed, but it sure as hell wasn’t what he got with the first SHIELD agent he met ( _Fuck you very much, John Garrett_ ).

How had Phil missed the signs? Ward had tried to upend Skye off the Bus from day one. The rage that the Berserker Staff had wrought opened up wounds in way that he had outright ignored much to the detriment of everyone around them. Allowing the relationship between Ward and May to continue despite his deep reservations. Then there was the trade on the bridge involving Mike and his son. He had read that report and Ward picked the sniper spot that took him out of the line of sight for too long. And let’s not forget the Asgardian Lorelei, Phil remembered. Ward may have been under her spell, but the part of him that opened up every SHIELD secret so easily just couldn’t be ignored given everything that’s happened.

Yes, the warnings were like bat signals telling him to stop and think. Phil had ignored them refusing to believe that Grant Ward was capable of so much evil. It was easy to place the blame on Ward’s troubled childhood and having John Garrett as a mentor. Phil even agreed that those things played a pivotal role in Ward being the man he is today. But the fact of the matter is, none of the trauma of the last weeks would not have happened had he been doing his job in the first place. The places that he and his team were at emotionally were just as much his fault as it was Grant Ward’s.

Since Ward’s imprisonment, Phil had sent in three interrogators he knew he could trust. All three were unmitigated failures. For someone as well trained as Grant Ward who had lain low as a Hydra spy within SHIELD for as long as had, simple interrogations would never work. Neither would torture even if Phil wanted to go that route.

No, Grant Ward was too damn good. SHIELD and John Garrett made sure of that.

Ward was part of a small handful of agents who could withstand not just torture, but also was considered the best of the best. He was the only name that could be spoken in the same breath as Natasha Romanov. The Black Widow was still better than him, but that was a fight he hoped never to see. Either way, Natasha remained off the grid. Even if she was available, Phil wasn’t sure if he wanted her in the same room with Ward. Natasha was protective over her family and if Phil considered his team family, so would she and Ward had done enough damage to them that she’d have no reason to hold back.

May was an option. She had the skills for interrogation, but Phil still felt she was emotionally compromised when it came to Ward. He still believed the only reason she was able to subdue Ward was not just because she was enraged, but also because they had trained together so much that she had finally learned a few weaknesses. The relationship between them remained convoluted.

Phil was at a standstill. They needed Ward to talk. He was the highest ranking Hydra agent in their hands.

“Phil.” May entered the office.

He shut off the monitor. “Yes.”

“The Icebox.”

Phil glanced at his phone and saw the blinking light. Who came up with that name? “Thanks.”

After she left, he picked up the phone. “This is…” Phil hated this part. “Director Coulson.”

“Sir, this is Agent Martin at the Icebox.”

“How can I help you, Agent?”

“Sir, Grant Ward escaped his cell 45 minutes ago.”

The news made Phil slowly get to his feet. “Send me everything. We’re on our way.”

He hung up the phone taking a moment to let the news sink. Why now? Every time someone walked into his cell, Ward was fully capable of escaping. Was it some sort of game? Did Ward finally tire of confinement? Perhaps Ward was going back into the arms of Hydra.

Phil ordered May to change course and he ignored the look coming from both her and Skye. This wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have right now.

When they landed at the new secret location for imprisoned Hydra agents, Phil quickly filled Trip, May, Jemma and Skye on the developments. There was resolute determination in May’s eyes. Jemma’s hands clenched in her lap betraying the turmoil going on inside of her. Skye turned her attention to the window and kept silent.

Phil inwardly cursed Ward again for the damage to his team – _correction_ – his family.

Once at the Icebox, Phil and May were guided to Ward’s cell. The sheets on the cot were rumpled as if someone had been lying on them. A few newspapers had been slid under it and Phil reached for one. He flipped through it while the nervous agent stood uncertainly at the bars.

“He’s been getting newspapers?”

“Yes, sir. He asked for the Dover-Sherborn Daily paper. We didn’t see the harm.”

Phil checked the date. It was today’s. He flipped through a few pages, skimming the headlines as he went. It was the middle of the third page that got his attention.

“May, ready the Bus. We’re headed to Dover, Mass.”

“You know where he’s going?” Her voice always steady and even, reassuring almost.

“Yes, and I know why.” Phil handed her the paper and marched out of the room. They didn’t have much time.

Skye had spoken low and serious when she reported to Phil about Ward’s destination. The motive was now clear and despite how much antipathy he had towards his former subordinate, he could understand it.

“Richard Maynard Ward,” Phil told her. “Get me everything.”

“That’s where he’s going.” Skye’s statement sounded more like condemnation as if Ward deserved the hell he was walking into. Maybe he did.

“A family like that has more than a few skeletons in their closet, Skye.”

She said nothing else and Phil was relieved. He didn’t think he could handle dealing with her pain right now when his own felt too close.

It was a relatively short ride and Phil knew that if he was right about this, he’d arrive right behind Ward. The agent had always been tenacious, intelligent, not to mention fast.

Upon landing in Dover, Massachusetts in the dead of night, Phil ordered Jemma and Skye to remain behind. Before they could argue he explained that if they were going to catch Ward, he didn’t want either of them to get in his sights. Trip knew to be on standby should Ward be playing a game of cat and mouse. It wouldn’t be the first time.

That left Phil and May taking the SUV to the other side of Dover. The town had a median income of over $200k which meant that the vast majority of residents lived a mostly affluent lifestyle. There was no rule that said troubled kids from abusive homes only came from the poorer sections of society. Grant Ward was proof of that. He came from money.

The Tudor style mansion only had a few lights illuminating it accenting it’s darkness and made him feel as if they were entering evil itself. This had been the home of Grant Ward as a child and no matter the wealth, Phil couldn’t imagine anything good coming out of a place like this.

Phil glanced at May as he eased his weapon from the holster. She nodded to her right indicating how she was going to make her approach and he returned it. After she darted in that direction, Phil caught sight of the 1999 Oldsmobile sitting in the driveway and touched the hood. Still warm to the touch, there was no doubt that Ward was inside.

He was careful to edge the door open so as not to make a sound. Just as Phil moved inside with stealth, he could almost hear voices. He got closer and the voices started becoming clearer. At a closed door, Phil could hear muffled words on the other side. It wasn’t Ward’s voice.

Grant Ward had come for blood. Specialist training required as little talking as possible.

He saw May out of the corner of his eye coming in from another door, then Phil moved.

The door silently opened and Phil stepped in with his gun aimed at Ward’s back.

The former agent stood rigid, furiously calm with a Glock 21 aimed directly at his older brother, Richard Maynard Ward.

“You have to help me!” Maynard begged. “He’s crazy!”

“Is he?” Phil asked. He glanced at Ward’s brother.

There was little resemblance between the two, maybe the same eye color, he thought. Richard Maynard Ward had a ponchy stomach and he stood with his hands in the air. The older brother was at least six inches shorter than Grant who stood tall at 6’2”. At the desk was a lead crystal glass which appeared to have liquor in it as if he had been sipping on it while perusing financial statements.

“This isn’t the first time he’s tried to kill me!”

Keeping his gun raised, Phil moved nearer to the desk to look face to face at Ward.

“Mr. Ward, Maynard that is, I need you to shut the hell up,” Phil instructed firmly. If the older brother kept rambling in a panic he was bound to say something that would set Ward off. “Do you understand me?”

The man’s silence answered his question.

“Ward,” Phil began. “Grant, I need you to focus on me. Not him. Look at me, please.”

Phil felt his heartbeat pace just a bit quicker when he saw Grant work his grip on the handle and his finger seemed to flex just a bit on the trigger. He still hasn’t pulled, Phil told himself. He’s hesitating.

In a specialist like Grant Ward or Clint Barton, hesitation was a death knell. This situation made it one small step in the right direction.

When Phil had Ward’s attention, he continued.

“Your brother will not have a political career or a hedge fund after tonight. We know everything he’s done and it’s now in the hands of the FBI. They’re sending people over here right now.”

That seemed to reach him and his eyes blinked a few times.

“Your brother has been laundering money for the Mob, Grant. Skye found it.” When Grant remained fixed with his weapon aimed at Maynard, Phil continued. “Did you hear me? Skye found it and she gave it to the FBI. He’s going to prison for a long time.”

Ward’s eyes closed just briefly and then his hand went limp at his side as if in relief while still holding the gun. Phil watched as the gun was eased out of his hand by May and then taken away without a fight.

When Phil was alone with Ward’s brother, he slipped his own weapon back in its place.

“There are FBI agents on the way here, Mr. Ward. You have just enough time to call a lawyer. You’ll need it.”

Maynard’s face tightened angrily and his fists clenched as if he was considering taking a swing at Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD. Phil hoped he would just for the satisfaction of seeing blood on the man’s face for being the part of the ruination of a good agent.

“What about him? Did you see him? He’s fucking crazy!”

“Your brother is our responsibility, Mr. Ward. I suggest you worry about your own worthless hide.”

Phil stormed out of the room unsatisfied with not having punched the man in the face. By the time he reached the SUV, Grant was sitting in the backseat with his hands cuffed behind him and a seatbelt holding him in place. May was next to him.

After getting behind the wheel, Phil pulled the belt around and snapped it in place. He looked in the mirror at Ward and wondered if it were possible that a good man existed within him since he hadn’t murdered his brother, even if he deserved it.

Nothing would ever shock Phil Coulson more than the words that came out of Ward’s mouth next.

“Our parents preached how we had to live up to our names. Maynard means strong, Richard, powerful ruler. Grant, tall.” Ward’s laugh was sick with bitterness. “Can you fucking believe that?”

“Ward,” Phil began. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the moment when reaching out mattered more than anything.

“Take me back,” Grant directed without preamble.

No, Grant Ward didn’t want to be saved at least not now he didn’t. The Hydra spy looked so far away out the window that Phil was beginning to doubt that they’d ever save him.

Phil started the car and began the drive back to the Bus.

 

**END**


End file.
